: The Pig Count

Chewing a few times before he swallowed, Count Hannibal looked up at his new guests.

"Well?" He growled.

The handler finally snapped out of his stupor and yanked the chains in his hands to show the slave he brought behind him.

"I brought her as you order my lord. She's the last one you wanted, correct?" A nervous sweat could slightly be seen as he awaited his lords answer.

Count Hannibal stood up and walked toward his slave as he assessed her with his beady eyes.

She was a rare breed of beastfolk called a drakin. Prideful creatures that were known for their strength, brains and rarity. Living in the Southern continent, they were very hard to come by on the Eastern continents territories. And since they would rather take their own life then be subjugated to torture or interrogation they were very rare, very elusive and very sought after as slaves. If they still held some intelligence that is.

He had just been lucky to have found one at the auction and he couldn't give up the chance to 'explore' such a rare creature. To know how it tastes and how it functions. The thought of it gave him such a feeling of ecstasy that it made him shiver in anticipation. That was why he saved her for last.

As he approached her, she growled like a beast. The sound was contained by the muzzle covering half her face but the act of defiance made Count Hannibal grin from ear to ear.

Holding his hand out, he didn't break eye contact with his new beast. "You may go now. And you know what to do with that." Gesturing to the corpse on the stone table.

The handler nodded as he handed over her chains and ran over to the corpse. Standing over her, he flicked his fingers and the corpse was set ablaze. Done with his task, he quickly left closing the door with a slam. The lock clicking to show no way out.

"Now, what shall we do with you?" Pulling the chains over to the wall, Count Hannibal took the shackles around her wrist and hung her up on a hook protruding out of the stone wall.

Her feet couldn't touch the floor but he took the chains around her feet and locked them to the stone floor under her, stretching her out making her unable to thrash around or struggle.

"I wonder what you'll sound like. Your voice must be very interesting. I wonder if drakins sound any different." He snorted at himself. "Well, I'm going to find out anyways. Don't worry. You won't have to wait long."

Kayda just growled in return. Not understanding a single thing he said. But even then, she had seen that sick sadistic expression multiple times and she knew exactly what he was after. Too bad he got the wrong 'pet'.

With a sickening yellow toothed grin, Count Hannibal waddled back to the stone table where the corpse was still burning. Beside the table was a shelf along with a metal tray. Looking over the metal tray, Count Hannibal sung a sorely off note tune to himself as he brushed his hand over each and every one of the instruments on it. After a while, his hand stopped along with his humming.

Picking up a small knife, he grinned. "Let's start small, shall we? We'll get to the bigger things later."

Taking the small knife, he held it over the flame, turning it and twisting it until it faintly held a molten glow showing the knife had heated up. Turning back, his face seemed to crack with sick excitement but it quickly dimmed seeing her face.

It didn't show any type of fear or horror. It was just the expression of a dumb beast.

"Hmm?" Walking over, he pressed his face into hers, making her snarl and growl even louder. "Maybe your just stupid?" His breath was warm and sticky on her face. It was acrid and putrid like rotten flesh. Her nose twitched with disgust but she never stopped growling.

"Don't worry. You'll understand soon enough." Pulling away, he held the blazing knife in his hand and reached up to her fingers. Holding one of her small fingers in between his, he drove the knife under her nail.

Kayda flinched at the pain but didn't release even a small whimper and just continued to snarl and growl. She held back the urge to throw up at the thought of his fingers touching hers. Any contact made her sick. But with this disgusting pig, it made her intestines turn inside of her making her want to claw at her own skin.

Count Hannible continued to drive the knife under her nail. The sound of sizzling flesh and blood filled the air along with thickening the already acrid smell in the room.

Flicking the knife slightly, he pinched the nail between his fingers and slowly pulled it back. The nail along with a string of skin peeled all the way from her finger down to her forearm before he tore it off. Then, he took the knife and cauterized the wound to stop her from bleeding out.

It was cruel and efficient, showing he had practiced it many times before but after he threw the nail aside, he shouted out in frustration.

"You stupid stupid beast!" He proceeded to punch her in the chest making her cough. His eyes were boring into her as he threw the knife behind him.

"Did you not get it? I want to hear your voice. Let me hear you scream!" Yelling like a kid throwing a tantrum, he hit her again and again until he was gasping for breath.

Taking in a deep breath, he took his fatty hand and brushed the strands of hair that fell into his face back. Taking a look at his slave, he seemed to get an idea.

"Oh, I get it. How could I have been so stupid. There's no way I can hear your screams with such a thing on your face." He giggled at the realization. "This was it all along. Right?"

She didn't understand and only gasped a little at the force inflicted on her lungs. With only bones and skin to protect her organs, she had little protection to such brutal force that even if she tried to fake a strong persona, her body would be forced to react naturally to any uncontrollable force.

When she finally caught her breath, she saw a tubby hand come into view reaching for her face. She snarled and thrashed around as best she could but the chains held her down only allowing her very limited movement.

"I'll just get this off and we can begin again." When his hand finally reached the muzzle, he yanked it down, uncovering her mouth.

The thought of any part of his skin touching her made her sick to her stomach. It made her feel as if her very soul was dirtied by a single touch.

Kayda's eyes widened as her pupils turned to slits. The disgust. The fear. The hatred. Every negative emotion she tried to hide by acting as a beast suddenly exploded as she watched his grimy fingers slide past her face.

Her act wasn't fake anymore as her body acted out.

Before he could move his hand away, there was a sudden flash of fangs, a tearing sound and then silence consumed the room.

Count Hannibal stood frozen in his spot as he watched his slave vomit out a heap of blood and flesh in disgust before baring her fangs to hiss at him. Finally looking down at his hand, he was stunned.

At first it was whimper but then he screamed out as he clenched his bloodied hand which was missing two fingers. He fell to the ground and screamed in agony while rolling around in pain.

All while doing this, he missed the look of hatred and disgust that painted itself on Kayda's face which showed everything but the stupidity of a feral beast.